A little over four weeks into staying at home for the greater good of stemming the spread of COVID-19, some of us may find ourselves wondering if this is one of those times that the world irreversibly changes. The wisdom of Solomon tells us there is nothing new under the sun…  and that is certainly true. In fact, the older I get and the more I learn about many of the horrors of history, that truth is continually reinforced. History does periodically repeat itself, so in that sense, what’s new to us is not something new “under the sun.” 

And yet (if we’ve lived long enough) we all can point to times in our life and even other times in history at which we had a strong sense that at least our life changed forever. Because when we live through an event, we experience it in an entirely different way than just reading about it. So even if life is not changed for all time, it could be “the end of the world as we know it.”

Where were you when…?

My husband and I recently visited the 6th Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza in Dallas, the site of one such moment in time that brought big change.  Growing up, I heard my mother recount many times the day that President Kennedy was shot. It was her senior year in high school, and she retained very vivid recollection of the day’s events as well as the way it made her feel. When the moment finally came for me to stand in the exact spot where the assassination took place, I had a much more visceral reaction than I expected. 

Perhaps the museum curators really knew how to recreate the timeline and the mood of the era to set the stage for the whole experience. But I think rather it was more the fact that the event affected someone very close to me deeply, and so even second-hand, it had an impact on me. My mother had lamented many times how the event marked the end of an era of at least perceived innocence in our American culture. Perhaps the fact that it happened on the cusp of the arrival of her own adulthood exaggerated that change a bit. But from watching movies and documentaries through the years, her reaction seemed in keeping with that of many Americans.

For me, the day the world forever changed was September 11, 2001. One moment I was feeding my one-year-old daughter her breakfast, and the next, I was witnessing the first foreign attack (known to me) on US soil in my lifetime. A new, unfathomable type of slaughter unfolded before my eyes as our nation collectively went in to stages of grief following the previously unimaginable horror. 

Wars and terrorism (for the most part) happened in other places and I had never really felt like something of that magnitude could ever happen in our back yard… until that day. The concept of a national “loss of innocence” resonated more fully with me after that time. I would never feel the same about flying in an airplane, and I’d never again trust that nothing could possibly go wrong in the gorgeous blue skies of a September day. 

Looking back, the visual impact, both of the iconic towers collapsing so suddenly, along with the uncensored atrocities that followed in real time, was really more astonishing than the scale of the final death toll, jarring as it was, especially in light of events like the tsunami that hit Indonesia just a few short years later and took the lives of over 200,000 people in a single day.

This current pandemic, totally different in nature to the other events mentioned, is the same in that it feels like one of those times when the world is changing. And what comes after will be forever different. Of course, a huge difference is that it’s stretching out into an uncertain, lengthy holding pattern. Even in places where it started six months ago, things have not gone completely back to normal. 

The illness itself is of course certainly not the worst history has seen. Especially when we compare it to pandemics like the various occurrences of the plague and the horrible Spanish Flu of 1918, of which many people are just becoming aware. Many of these historic pandemics had a much greater death toll. When you look at the numbers as a percentage of the population, this illness doesn’t even compare. Of course, that’s assuming COVID-19 has an endpoint. 

However, is there anyone living who actually remembers anything like it? And even if they did, it wouldn’t look the same. AT. ALL. No one in history has watched such an event unfold simultaneously around the world. We not only know what’s going on in our own community, but we’re able to access visuals of calamity, in the form of photographs and live streaming video from around the world. It’s a completely unprecedented phenomenon in its scope and against the backdrop of modern times.

Hmm… That was different.

This past Sunday, we, like so many others spent Easter at home, away from church and extended family. From the couch, I worshiped with my family in the same clothes I wore on Saturday (perhaps TMI). Later, I watched Andrea Bocelli sing Amazing Grace on the steps of the Duomo di Milano (a cathedral in Milan). It was before a completely bodily absent audience as scenes of empty streets were shown from the the world over. Likely photography drones had been flown over many familiar landmarks. Times Square and the Eiffel Tower overlooked almost completely deserted cityscapes, highlighting the global scale of the pandemic and the efforts being put forth to stop it.

Of course, the pandemic has many different faces. Some are experiencing grief and horror up close, many not being able to maintain normal human contact to help with coping and healing. This includes workers on the front lines as well as those who have experienced sickness and separation within their family. Others are experiencing economic upheaval because of sudden job loss, or conversely are daily seeing family members off to jobs that are putting all of their lives in jeopardy. 

At the same time, others like myself are experiencing more the absence of weekly errands and events and activities. I’m even enjoying the upside of having margin in my life for once: Not stressing over a jam-packed schedule. Seeing my teen daughters suddenly at the table for dinner and them even joining me for an afternoon walk. 

While I have grief and concern for strangers who are suffering, I’ve found it easier to take time to call and check on loved ones. I’ve been able for once to exercise consistently. I’ve knocked out a few small tasks that would normally get shuffled to the back-burner for months on end. 

I certainly haven’t had enough extra time to experience boredom, but I’ve secretly wished for it (the time—not the boredom). Within this range of experiences, there is a wide range of feelings about the “quarantine” and how it affects each of us. I do realize that everything about my perspective would change if the illness came close to or into my own home. 

But maybe the strangest phenomenon of the past weeks has been the fact that we’re all experiencing the same thing at practically the same time globally at a time when we’re so globally connected. I’ve chatted with friends in other countries who are having experiences and feelings similar to my own. Just like our family, they’re doing everything they can to comply with measures to keep everyone safe. Just like us, they’re concerned for the vulnerable members of their community and family. And just like us, they’re doing okay, at least for now.

So, is this “the end of the world as we know it?” And if so, can good possibly come from the change? On some of our now more frequent long walks-and-talks, my husband and I have marveled at some of the ways we’re seeing people deal with the challenges, and we’ve wondered if indeed some GOOD things will stick.  

What can we learn here?

Will people like me for the first time learn what a little margin looks like and finally know its importance enough to fight for it? Will people have a little clearer vision of what’s actually important in life? 

Will some previously seemingly impossible-to-accomplish family time seem like a more attainable and worthy pursuit? Will companies see their way clear to making changes that will be better for peoples’ health/the environment? Will commutes that cost people sleep, clean air, and simple precious time be reduced or eliminated? 

Will hospitals find new, better ways to treat patients and halt the rampant spread of disease and bacteria? Will churches and other organizations begin to use technology in ways that before seemed taboo or impersonal? 

Will we recognize when people from both sides of the political aisle agree (at least in part) and work together on something we can really make a collective difference? Will we realize that suffering exists all around us all the time? And that compassion is not only needed and appropriate during a pandemic but also even after it’s a memory?

I don’t have the answers to these questions, but here are some things I’d like to see happen: 

If I had three wishes…

First, I’d love to see parents feeling more empowered to educate their children. NO, I don’t think everyone should suddenly convert to homeschooling. There are some fairly broad misunderstandings of what homeschooling is and how it works, but that’s another post for another day… 

But what a fantastic outcome if many parents realize that the state is not the only entity qualified to teach their children! And things like family heritage, traditions, and values held dear are worth instilling and passing down. Non-academic skills like cooking, sewing, woodworking, and many other passions and hobbies are beneficial, screen-free, and can be taught at home. 

Even just families spending the time it takes to impart basic home maintenance and upkeep skills would be a wonderful outcome.

I’d love to see more technology used for actual good. Not just entertainment, and not just for the pursuit of more of everything. But perhaps to pursue less: less pollution, fewer hours spent working, less unnecessary travel for business. 

Perhaps a sort of restraint could emerge, that could even be incentivized for the good of all. We’ve been forced to use technology in some alternative ways, but I think it’s opened us all up to thinking outside of the box. We can see that collective effort can bring about real change. Maybe improved air quality is worth a little effort in that vein.

I’d also wish for an overall slower pace of life, at least here in the US. When I’ve visited other places, I’ve marked the contrast in the ritual of a simple meal. The Americans with me, after gulping down the last bites, would begin to squirm, and wonder why we were waiting to move on to the next thing. 

At the same time, our native counterparts would be joyfully exchanging meaningful discourse in a relaxed, unhurried manner. Before the pandemic, such lingering over a meal was almost unheard of in our own home. Our family is fairly out of practice in this skill, but lately there have been glimpses of actual unforced after-dinner conversation!

My husband and I also discussed taking a long look at how we do spiritual disciplines and worship—evaluating what we do at a personal level versus what we do corporately. I’d like to see more focus on a meaningful discourse with a few people versus shallow interaction with many.

I think even taking the time to ask hard questions is something for which we lack space and clarity in our normal, frenetically- busy lives. And, granted, some of that frenetic busy-ness is due to the feverish pursuit of our own pleasure and “leisure” activities. Even a brief pause from the noise paves the way to contemplation of matters of true importance, at least for me.

As a result, I’d like to see more people spending more time soberly facing our fragile mortality rather than chasing eternal youth. We all KNOW that death is pretty much a guarantee. But we take great pains to avoid confronting that reality until we’re forced. Instead of avoiding the subject, we all need to be clear on what we believe we need to do to be ready for the inevitable, realizing that pandemics are not the only game-changers that happen unexpectedly.

Related to our fear and avoidance of death, and the aging leading up to it for most of us, our cultural obsession with physical appearance goes to bizarre lengths. But few of us are immune to it. I’ve skipped face makeup and worn no product in my hair for an entire month now, and it’s been so liberating! My husband may be less enthused, however…  I’d love to see a shift away from the fixation on physical beauty ideals and more priority placed on inner adornment.

What can I do??

So what should we be doing right now? I think first and foremost, if you are not on the stressful front lines of this pandemic, which the great majority of people I know are not, spend time pulling  those things that are most important to you back into focus. Spiritual disciplines and quality time spent with family will be at the top of most of our lists. 

And if you are like me and prone to “schedule insanity,” creating a plan for a saner existence is paramount during the relative “quiet.” And while I don’t want to contribute to the total collapse of the economy (as if I have that kind of power…), spending less time on consumption might yield less of a need for earning, thereby yielding more time for communing. 

And speaking of communing, aside from missing their favorite restaurant, the complaint I hear most from friends these days is the separation from other people. God said that it is not good for man to be alone… And we see him over and over in the Bible providing companionship for His people, in the form of families, friends, and ministry companions. 

Loneliness is at the least an epidemic in its own right (and was, even before the pandemic). This is a great time to be ministering to the lonely. I have an older neighbor who has no living immediate family, and who has expressed how lonely it is to be living alone, especially during this time. 

Many other people who don’t live alone are also susceptible to loneliness, however. Mothers of littles (especially single moms) often spend all their waking hours caring for the needs of children, which though rewarding, can be a very lonely task. 

Others in dysfunctional situations are lonely even in the best of times. The elderly, caregivers, and many others need the emotional support of compassionate people. Even when personal contact is not possible, there are many ways to let  these vulnerable members of society know they are not forgotten. Calls, video chats, mail, and social distance interactions are all ways we can help. 

So if you are wondering how to use the extra time you may have, and don’t want to get caught in the trap of watching the news and social media ad nauseam, dole out some extra measures of compassion, some of which could be as life-saving as what’s happening on the front lines of the pandemic, if perhaps on a smaller scale.

Whom do you trust?

Finally, I think the most meaningful change that can come out of the latest turn in history is for us individually to re-evaluate where we put our trust. I think the whole ordeal has had the surprising effect of revealing where our trust currently lies. 

Maybe it’s wrapped up in noise and constant activity that insulates us from the reality of life and death. Or do we trust the security of our wealth or the protection of the powers that be? Do we trust our diet and exercise routines which keep us healthy and out ahead of the sickness curve? Do we trust in our savvy financial investments and sound retirement planning? 

Or do we have an unchanging source of hope? Hope like we find in James 1:17? “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” No matter what twists and turns this life may take, our Heavenly Father is constant and unchanging. His Word has not changed from the beginning of time itself.

In a time like this, I think those without a firm faith find themselves asking what life’s all about, or perhaps questioning why a so-called “good God” allows such things to happen. But I also think those of us who consider ourselves firmly rooted in faith begin to understand that in some areas we’re not as firmly rooted as we’d like to believe. 

My mind keeps returning to familiar scriptures when I start to feel a little untethered, and they do not disappoint. Psalm 121 says, “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From whence does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made Heaven and Earth.” The source for my hope and help is greater than any temporal troubles. He transcends time itself, and all of history is HIS story.

Jesus reminds us, in the Sermon on the Mount, to take things one day at a time. Matthew 6:34 says, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” After all, we don’t receive the grace and mercy we will need tomorrow until tomorrow actually arrives! 

No shadow of turning with Thee…

Lamentations (whose author knew a thing or two about troubles) says in 3:22-23 “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” What a comfort to know that like manna in the wilderness, the Lord is providing what we need each day to survive.

My sincere prayer is that life won’t ever be the same—that you and I will never be the same. May we learn to depend entirely on the Lord and his faithfulness and provision in ways we never have before, realizing that he holds our very lives in His hand and He is the only one worthy of our ultimate trust.